Possession
by Failure Turtle
Summary: Possession is nine-tenths of the law. CM PunkxOC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Why is he taking over my brain?!**

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Delilah couldn't open her eyes even if she wanted to. Something was keeping them shut. She was stuck in the dark abyss of her mind, and no one could save her. She was being held captive against her own will.

This wasn't her choice. She would never have chosen this. If her life had been up to her, she would have been in the country. She would have a huge white house with blue shutters and a front door to match. She would have a huge yard with bunches of daisies in the garden and a tire swing in the front yard.

She wouldn't be lying in her own bed with her limbs tied to the bedposts.

Delilah was never even allowed to think for herself. Her parents even controlled her thoughts for the most part.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Her body convulsed, shaking violently on the mattress.

Her mother stood above her, smiling down at her only child. "Such a good girl, Delilah. That's my little princess…"

Delilah tried as best as she could to glare at her mother for what she was doing to her. When her father entered the room, her scared eyes turned to him.

"Anne, can't you let her go?" Delilah's father sighed, taking in the sight he had seen one too many times already.

Anne shot daggers at her husband. "Mike! I will not tolerate this!"

Mike flinched as if an electric current ran through his body. "You're right, Anne. This is what is best for Delilah."

Delilah had seen this before. Her father was really sick of her mother's antics, but he couldn't do anything about it. Ever since her miscarriage while pregnant with Delilah's future little sister, Anne had gone to the crazy side…the dark side…

The side of the Devil.

Delilah cowered in fear as her mother bent over her. "This is all _your_ fault, Delilah. Just remember that."

* * *

A girl stood in the road in front of CM Punk. A damsel in distress? Maybe. But the odds are it wasn't. It could just be a lost girl…Or a stupid one.

CM Punk was driving alone on a country road just outside of Cleveland, Ohio. He was on his way to the WWE Headquarters in Stamford, Connecticut, for a business meeting to go over his new storyline. Coming from his hometown of Chicago, he was not looking forward to this trip. As much as he loved his job, he hated leaving his home to go to work. It was a rarity that he got to spend any elongated amount of time at home. He needed a distraction.

And this girl was a distraction, at least for now.

He pulled over on the barren and empty road, save for him, his car, and the girl. There weren't many vacationers traveling the road, even though it was the middle of July.

Punk cautiously stepped out of his car and walked up to the girl. _This is crazy_, he thought to himself. Who randomly stops on a dead road like this? And to talk to some creepy chick who was just standing there?

She wasn't as scary as he originally thought. At first glance, she looked like Samara from "The Ring" right before she crawls out of the television screen. But at a closer view, she looked very much unlike a zombie girl who had escaped from a well.

Yes, her dark hair was unruly, but that could have been from the wind. Her blue eyes were very bright and her lips weren't pale. However, her skin was. It was almost white.

"Er…" Punk wasn't quite sure how to start. He had never done something like this before. "Are you hurt?"

The girl looked up from the ground at into his eyes. "Hello."

"I, uh…"

"No, I'm not hurt. But thank you for your kindness. I am a bit lost, though." The girl spoke fluidly, and if Punk was sure of himself, he thought that this sounded a bit rehearsed.

"How the heck do you get lost here on your own?"

"My family's car broke down miles away and they sent me to find someone for help."

"All by yourself?" Punk was taken aback. This girl couldn't be more than eighteen years old. A girl like that would get eaten alive by the predators of the world.

A gentle gust of wind blew past them. A few strands of hair blew over the girl's eyes. "Yes. All by myself. I'm twenty-four. I think I can handle myself."

"Well…can I help you?" CM Punk was a kind man, and he was sure this innocent girl wouldn't hurt him. She looked too sweet and fragile to be harmful. And even if she tried, he was a professional wrestler. He was pretty sure he could take a skinny twenty-four year old girl.

"Can you drive me back to my family?"

"Where are they?"

The girl pointed back behind her. "A couple miles that way. They're next to a fallen down tree. It was blocking our path."

"I can drive you over there, if you'd like. What's your name?"

"Thank you, sir. My name is Delilah." Delilah smiled politely at CM Punk. "And your name?"

"Phi—Punk. Call me Punk," he answered, extending out his hand, which Delilah shook. "Well, this would be my car…"

_Go with him. Go with him!_ the voice in Delilah's head demanded.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm trying to get this done before eleven. I have to get ready and go to my mommy's so we can go to a RAW show four hours away! Did I mention that she hates wrestling? Lmfao. I was planning on making her love Chris Jericho, but I don't think that's going to work out. I shall make her fall in love with...Randy Orton.**

Punk's eyes flickered toward Delilah every few moments during the drive back to her parents' car. She wasn't sitting like a normal person would be sitting in a relaxed situation. Her back was straight and her hands were folded in her lap. Her back wasn't even touching the back of the seat as she was sitting as close to the edge of the car seat as possible. The seatbelt looked as if it was digging deeply into her thin neck.

"I'm…You're…Are you afraid or something?" Punk managed to ask, noticing that Delilah's eyes were wide with fear.

She blinked three or four times and the look of fear was gone. Instead, it was replaced by a look of normalcy, and even enjoyment. Her eyes brightened up to an unnatural shade of blue. "Afraid? No, I'm not afraid. What is there to be afraid of, Punk?"

Punk chuckled, getting over the fact that she had just switched moods as quickly as someone could flick a light switch. "I don't know…For all you know, I could be a psycho axe murderer that preys on young children. Ew, that's creepy." Punk shuddered at his words. He had disgusted himself.

"I think you're the one who should be afraid. After all, who just stops and talks to some dead looking girl who is standing in the middle of the street? I think I have a better chance of being the psycho axe murderer." Delilah turned to Punk and gave him the widest and brightest smile that she could imagine.

Punk became uneasy. Who was this crazy girl grinning at him like a Cheshire cat? His palms became sweaty as he gripped the steering wheel tighter and tighter.

"I'm totally kidding. God, Punk, you're such a pansy."

Punk frowned after being called a pansy. Usually, it was a term he was called often. Whenever he turned down an opportunity to drink and party with the boys, they called him a pansy or some other derogatory term. Usually, Chris Jericho was behind it all. He always seemed to brush it off. When one of the guys called him that, he shrugged and continued on with his daily life, not even acknowledging it. But when a small twenty-four year old zombie girl who looked as if the smallest breeze from the wind would snap her in half happened to call him a pansy, it broke him.

They rode in silence for the next few minutes. Punk was paranoid, glancing back and forth between Delilah and the road. Delilah sat perfectly content. Even though her window was rolled down, her hair didn't even fly in the wind. He didn't realize that he was staring at her and not even watching the road until she said something.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or are we going to crash into that fallen tree?" she said, not sounding nervous or scared at all.

Punk snapped out of the trance that Delilah unknowingly put him in. His head turned back to the road. Sure enough, the fallen tree that she was speaking of was not very far ahead of them. He slammed on the breaks, sending the car skidding down the road. The smell of skid marks filled the air as they flew closer and closer to the large tree in the middle of the road.

And then they stopped.

"Are you okay?" Punk asked, turning to his female companion in the front seat.

"Yes," Delilah nodded, still sitting with perfect posture. She wouldn't look at him, but still asked, "Are _you_ alright?"

"I…uh…Mhm."

"Good. This is the tree where I left my parents. It looks like they've gone for help. Maybe if I get out of the car and look around, I'll be able to find some sort of clue that would—" Delilah started, but she was cut off when she started shaking uncontrollably.

"Delilah!" Punk screamed, lunging across the car to help her.

And then the shaking stopped.

"I mean…" Delilah started again, clearing her throat. "Maybe if I go with you, I'll be able to find my parents."

Punk shook his head. "I don't think so, Delilah. I'm a busy guy. I should already be halfway to Connecticut right now."

Delilah's hand reached across the car, without her consent, and grabbed his hand. Her body was acting on it's own without any input from Delilah, although she was used to this by now. It still scared her to death. "Look, Punk…I need help. I'm scared to go out there on my own. And you can help me. Please? You'd be my hero."

At Delilah's touch, Punk's entire body jolted as if her touch was filled with an electric current.

"Sure, Delilah. I'd be happy to help you."

Delilah hated this. She hated being controlled by her mother, no matter where that woman was.

Delilah hated being possessed. And now she was bringing CM Punk into it.


End file.
